


Deamon

by kalemuffin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean is a Bad Influence, Dean is a Sweetheart, Dean is a jerk, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, F/M, Gabriel is a Little Shit, Implied Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Sam is a Little Shit, Sam is a Sweetheart, Sam is a moose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 19:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8909353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalemuffin/pseuds/kalemuffin





	1. Chapter One

7 months ago

“DEAN! NO!”

The girlish shriek of laughter pierced the comfortable silence if the library and you furrowed your brow in annoyance, as Rebekah, Deans current, five-month girlfriend, raced into the room, closely followed by her afore mentioned boyfriend, who was clad only in his jeans, his hair and torso still wet from his recent shower.

He proceeded to chase her around the room and behind the large table you were leafing through books at, still trying to find a way to remove the Mark of Cain. You huffed to yourself in slight annoyance as they raced past you, ruffling the pages you had spread across the table. Dean finally manged to catch her, wrapping her in a wet embrace, much to her annoyance it would seem, from the noise she made. You turned you back on them, not wanting to watch, before grabbing your empty mug and slipping away, unnoticed as usual, to the kitchen.

“Hey Sam.” You greeted the younger Winchester as you turned to pour yourself another cup of tea.

“Hey (y/n).” Sam seemed to be the only one in the bunker that seemed to realise that you still lived here, you and Dean hadn’t talked properly in ages, not like you used to, having your movie marathons and binge watching Dr Sexy. None of that had happened, not since she had arrived five months ago. It was like you hadn’t existed for the three years you’d been with the guys. It wasn’t that you were jealous or anything,… no, not at all…

“Find anything?”

“No, not yet.” You turned to leave as the other two entered the kitchen, intent on hunting themselves out some breakfast.

“Hey, (y/n)?” You jumped slightly as Dean addressed you, it was the first time that he’d spoken to you directly in a while now. Three weeks to be honest. You turned to face him, “Sam said you.re going on a supply run?” You nodded a yes, “Don’t forget the pie!”

“Sure…Dean.”

 

3 weeks ago

“Maybe I like the disease!” Dean yelled at his younger brother, causing both you and Rebekah to flinch

“Sam, do we have to do this?” Rebekah begged the taller Winchester, making it appear that she cared, but you knew better. You had been the one who had walked into the bunker that night. The night when Sam had been away to follow up a lead on his brother and Crowley. The night that she’d went out to the bar, and hadn’t returned to the motel alone. The night that she was still perfectly aware of what she was doing. And you knew for a fact that she was still seeing him.

And she knew that you knew.

“Yes. We have to, we don’t know what he could do with the combined strength of the mark and a demon’s powers.” You replied not looking directly at her, you hadn’t been able to look at her for weeks, guilty about keeping her lie, but you didn’t know how Dean would react in his state, and you weren’t about to risk it.

“Shut UP (Y/N)! STOP CTING LIKE YOU CARE ABOUT THE GUYS. I SAW YOUR PHONE. I SAW THE TEXTS. YOU TOLD COLE WHERE DEAN WAS. AND WHERE SAM WAS. IT’S YOUR FAULT SAM GOT HURT. HE NEARLY DIED (Y/N), AND YOU CAUSED IT!”

You stared at her in shock, “What texts?”

She produced your phone from her pocket _(When did she get that?)_ and pulled up your messages, opening a set of texts she held the phone out towards your face, also allowing the phone to be in full view for the brothers.

“These ones!” She yelled at you as tears gushed down her cheeks.

“W-what…? I never sent those!”

“Really?” She passed the phone to Sam, who glanced at the screen before looking up at you with a look of confusion and disappointment. Meanwhile Dean had gone quiet. Scary quiet.

“(Y/n), why would you do this?”

“I didn’t Sam! You have to believe me, I would never do that to you and Dean, you guys are the only family I have!”

Unable to withstand the looks of doubt form Sam, smugness? From Rebekah and the pure hatred radiating off Dean, you exited the room, swiping your phone form the younger Winchester on the way out.

 _I can’t believe they would believe that I would do that!_ The silent screams echoed through your head as you flicked thought the messages on your phone. The messages were there alright, but you definitely hadn’t sent them. You could never do that to the guys, especially not Dean.

You threw the phone across your room, hearing the resounding crack as it hit the stone wall. Sitting on the end of your bed, you took you head in your hands, trying to think of a way to prove that you didn’t send those messages. You pulled harshly at your hair in frustration and anger as the tears welled in your eyes.

There was a quiet knock on the door as it slowly creaked open to reveal the Sam.

“S-Sam.” Your voice cracked as you said his name.

He kept his distance, standing in the doorway, not actually coming into the room. “(y/n) I think we need to talk.”

“I didn’t send them Sam! Why would I?! I would never want to hurt you or Dean!”

“Maybe this isn’t about hurting us (y/n). Maybe this is about your constant need to be around Dean. Maybe his is about your impatience to get him back. The fact that you didn’t trust me to do so! This isn’t about you (Y/N)! No everything is about you and Dean! He’s not even your boyfriend for God’s sake!” You flinched as Sam raised his voiced, he had never shouted at you before, you had always been his ‘little sister.’

Sam stormed out, slamming your door, and you decided what you had to do. You pulled out a small bag and packed the bare essentials, what you would need for a week or so. You needed to get out of here, even just for a while.

Just as you were about to open your room door and make you hasty escape, the lights went out and everything was bathed in a red glow. The bunker had just been put into lock down.

Dean was out.

 

And right now,…

 

He hated your guts.


	2. Chapter Two

You wrenched your door open and raced for the nearest good hiding place, our room would obviously be the first place he would come. You bolted towards the library, skidding you a halt before you entered, good thing too, as you peaked inside Dean was stalking across the room, making a beeline for the kitchen.

As quickly and quietly as you could you scuttled towards the table in the centre of the library and slipped underneath. Using he chair legs a s a cover, you watched out between them as Dean stalked across the room and into one of the hallways.

“(Y/n)!” Your breath hitched as you heard him call you name out tauntingly. “(Y/N)! Come on out, I want to talk with you! Come on I won’t bite! I promise!” You closed your eyes and prayed to Castiel that he wouldn’t find you, because, you knew, that if he did, you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself. Demon or not, you couldn’t hurt him.

The lights came back on and you breathed a sigh of relief, that was until a strong hand wrapped around your ankle and dragged you out from under the table and threw you across the room towards the bookshelves. You scrambled backwards, distancing yourself from the demon as much as possible, but he continued to slink towards you, like a lion stalking its prey. _Accurate enough._

You winched as he kneeled down and grasped your hair, dragging you face closer to him, you could literally feel the anger rolling off him in waves. “It’s your fault (y/n). Your fault Sammy got beat up. Your fault that Cole broke Becky’s arm, your fault I’m here. So (y/n), what I’m going to do to you right now, you have no one to blame from but yourself.”

He grasped your hair and slammed your head off his knee, the resounding ‘crack,’ of your nose breaking, echoing through the room. He released your hair and you tried to scramble away from him, but he loomed ever closer, the kicks and punches coming nonstop. And you didn’t fight back. You couldn’t. Even if he was a demon.

You lay, gasping in pain on the floor when your thoughts were interrupted by a unearthly scream-yell coming from Dean, you slowly turned your head to discover that Cas had Dean locked between his arms. And Cas was back to full power. Cas and Sam hauled Dean back to the safe room, and your sight began to fade to black as you heard the approaching footsteps of the returning angel. You vision went completely black as a sheering pain raced across your whole body.

 

“Shit, Sam… I never thought she’d do something like that.”

“You’ve seen the proof Dean!”

“-trusted her with my life.”

“-leave.”

“Sam, I don’t-“

“Dean! Come on she betrayed us! You can’t forgive that!”

Dribs and drabs of conversations filtered through the darkness. The final statement though rand through clearly, slicing through everything else.

Finally the black fog seemed to lift and you awoke with a deep, guttural gasp, as if you were breathing your first air in months. Slowly easing yourself up, you found yourself in your room. Alone. It seemed as though they didn't really care as to whether you woke up or not. Curling yourself into a ball, you stared around the room, your gaze settling on the bag you had packed prior to your 'incident.'

\----------

_ NOW _

You trudged through the rain, the new mud caking your combat boots. You were on a vampire hunt, it was just another hunt, nothing really mattered any more. Nothing had mattered for weeks now. Not since Sam and Dean had kicked you out. Not since Dean, the human Dean, had completely disowned you, disgusted by the thought of you.

You still remembered your exit from the bunker, how as you had slunk out, all of them, Sam, Dean, Rebekah, they'd all seen you leave. They'd all turned their noses up at you. Even the newly human Dean watched as you left the bunker, your only home for the last few years with nothing but a back pack. And he didn't even care about what he'd done to you. You hadn't seen Cas either, the angel warding inked onto you side probably helped with that though. Or maybe he just couldn't stand to see you...

So here you were, an empty shell of what used to be (y/n), with a broken left arm and a body littered with cuts and bruises. Most inflicted by a certain demon.

\----------

_ 2 days ago _

Dean and his brother stared at his girlfriend in horror.

"You did what?! Why?!"

"I-I framed (y/n), she didn't do anything wrong, in fact she was the one doing everything right! With all her goddamn research!... I-I hate this spell!" She tried to fight the truth spell that had been cast upon her by the witch they'd just ganked, the spell that compelled her to spill her guts about all her lies and deceit. "I-I needed her out of the way so she couldn't tell you-!... Couldn't tell about how I was cheating!-"

The brothers looked at each other in horror, Dean especially beginning to feel sick in the pit of his gut. They'd kicked you out for no reason. You'd actually been helping, losing sleep over research, being optimistic for Sam when he needed it and had tried to treat Dean as gently as possible, even if he was a demon.

And how had they rewarded you?

By kicking you out of the only place you had been able to call home, completely disowning you and exposing you to all the dangers if the hunting world simultaneously. And that was after Dean had nearly beaten you half to death, literally, Cas didn't even have the ability to heal all your grievances.

"Shit..." Rebekah was quickly told to pack and get out of the motel whilst the brothers started about how to find you, if you were still alive by now.


	3. Chapter Three

You groaned and, clutching your head, you slowly pulled yourself upright in the rear seat of your 1982 Pontiac Trans Am. It wasn’t the most comfortable back seat in the world, the Impala was much more comfortable, but, at least you were warm. And sure you were in your own car, and the boys would be able to find you pretty easily if they really wanted to, but you had a feeling they didn’t want you around, plus they hadn’t found you, and it was nearly a month since you left.

Climbing forward into to front seat, you used the sleeve of your grubby hoodie to clear some of the condensation off the windshield. You’d have to stop at a motel tonight, your clean clothing was running thin, and plus you could do with going to a bar or two, earning yourself a couple of hundred bucks at pool sounded pretty good right about now. Pulling yourself out of the car you went to the rear, and pulled a clean ACDC shirt out of the ‘clean’ corner of the trunk. Pulling the clean shirt over your head, you ditched yesterday’s in the used pile, not really worrying about anyone seeing you. You were in an abandoned clearing in the middle of the forest at six o’clock in the morning after all.

Dusting off the still-clean dark marine jeans, you re-laced your combat boots and made your way to the front of the trans am, grabbing the brown paper bag from the front seat. You hopped up on to the hood of your car, pulling the half eaten peanut butter and banana sandwich from yesterday out, which was quickly washed down by a ginger beer.

Climbing in to the cabin of the trans am, you made your way towards the sleepy town, that unknown to its inhabitants, was, you thought, being terrorised by a Djinn. People had gone missing and wound up later dead and drained. No one had actually seen the culprit, but Djinns were usually very remote and hard to find. Great. Motoring through the town, you made your way to the nearest motel and then police station.

\----------

“Hey! Dean! I have a hit, her car was in a town about three hours from here.”

\----------

“Agents Scully and McCartney, we’re here to investigate the murder victims?”

“S’ are you fellas working with that other FBI lady then? The pretty one?”

“….Yeah.”

\----------

You woke up, curled deep inside a cocoon of warmth, the smell of bacon and eggs wafted faintly under the heavy wooden door and invaded your senses, rolling over you promptly fell out of your bed, landing on the floor with a thump. You rose to your feet, taking I your surroundings, this wasn’t your room. It was Dean’s. Why were you i-? Oh yeah, you and Dean were together, that had all been a bad dream. Reaching over, you grabbed one of Dean’s oversized t-shirts and pulled it on along with some clean underwear and your soft, faded jeans. You padded your way to the bunker kitchen to be met with the glorious sight of Dean Winchester, _your_ Dean Winchester, cooking bacon and scrambled eggs.

“Morning (Y/n),” Sam greeted you from the table, where he was shovelling eggy bacon onto his mouth while doing somethings on his laptop. Walking past the younger Winchester, you ruffled his long hair, causing him to whine in fake annoyance. You wrapped your arms around Dean’s waist.

“Good morning.”

“Morning.” You kissed his jaw, before reaching round and stealing a rasher of bacon from Dean’s plate, taking your own and escaping to the table.

“Hey!”

You giggled before, leaning around to see what Sam was looking at.

“A case?”

“A case.”

\----------

_“(y/n)! (Y/n), wake up!”_

_“Listen, it’s a Djinn, you have to kill yourself in the dream to wake up!”_

_“Come on (y/n), I’m so, so sorry for what I did!”_

You sat bolt upright in the front seat of the Impala, breathing heavy.

“Hey, babe. You ok?”

You turned to face the older Winchester, wincing slightly at his proximity, the dream still fresh in your head, him as a demon, kicking the absolute shit out of you, but you knew that it was just a dream, the boys wouldn’t actually kick you out of the bunker. It was your only home.

“Sorry, bad dream. Where are we going?”

“Bobby’s.” He turned to grin lopsidedly at you, and you turned away from him, looking out of the window frowning. You knew this couldn’t be true. You remembered it, the enormous pain, the agony you felt when Bobby died. This wasn’t real. It was all a damn Djinn hallucination.

But, that meant the ‘dreams’ were real. They had kicked you out. You’d been in a world of misery for the last month. You hadn’t been eating enough, just enough to stay alive. Maybe,… maybe you were better off here, in this dream. After all, you’d feel like you’d lived years, when it was actually days.

\----------

_“(|Y/n). You have to listen to me” Dean’s deep, baritone voice resounded in your dreams. “(Y/n), you have to come back. To me. I know I’m an ass sometimes hell, most of the time, but I need you to come back, Sammy and I need you, we need you,… we need…” his voice faded out the replaced with silence, but you weren’t awake yet, why couldn’t you hear him? The real Dean._

“Good morning sleepy head,” A warm kiss was placed against your temple, and you slowly opened you eye, blinking the sleep out if them, to be met with green eyes, but they weren’t Deans, no, because this wasn’t Dean, not really, this was a dream. A Djinn apparition. And you had to get out of it. Now.

“I’m sorry.” You placed a bittersweet kiss on his confused face before, rolling out of bed and racing for the kitchen, ignoring fake Deans yells. You reached the knife rack and pulled a knife out, taking a deep breath, you plunged it deep into your chest.


	4. Chapter Four

You eased your eyes open, only to fake your sleep again. The Djinn was right there, and so were Sam and,… Dean. The real Dean. The Dean that had nearly killed you.

“She was so weak to begin with, all skin and bone, she was hardly worth it. But I knew she’d pull you two in. The Infamous Winchesters. So, I get three meals for the price of one. But first you get to watch your favourite little slut bled it out in her bliss.”

A noise sounded upstairs, and the Djinn immediately left to go investigate. He stopped suddenly on his way past you, reaching over and pulled the IV line out of the bag, allowing your blood to drip into his mouth. Dean bristled, clenching his jaw against the duct tape slapped over it. Your head lolled, you began to feel tired again, but you had to help the guys. They weren’t allowed to die.

The Djinn turned to leave and you spotted a discarded silver knife, coated in blood on the floor a few feet away. You began to pull at your bonds, your weakened state making it more of an effort than usual. Muffled noises came from the boys’ direction, but you ignored them and finally decided just to work your hand though the loops, there was no way you were breaking that rope.

A crash sounded from Deans direction, but you ignored it, feeling your wrists slowly escape the bindings, your own weight caught you by surprise and you dropped towards the floor, careening into something warm, just before you hit the concrete. Sam had broken his binding too, and had retrieved the knife, watching out for the Djinn’s return. Dean gathered your small figure in his arms and carried towards where Sam had now dealt with the Djinn.

Gently cradling you, Dean placed to in the front seat of the Impala, throwing Sam your car keys Dean climbed in and placed your head in his lap, making for his motel to get you all cleaned up. Having gotten the blood and accumulated grime cleaned off your skin, Dean changed you into one of his old t-shirts and laid you to sleep on his motel bed.

\----------

You groaned and opened your eyes painfully for the second time in two days, the bright sunlight streaming in through the window attacking your eyes causing you to screw your face up in disgust. Groaning, you rolled over and nearly fell off the side of the narrow, motel-room bed, before a pair of strong hands grasped your middle, pulling you back onto the mattress.

“Easy there tiger.” That deep voice that had haunted your dreams.

Dean Winchester.

You whipped around to meet his green gaze, flinching at his closeness, seeing you fear of him, he moved farther away, but not before you saw the hurt flash through his green orbs.

“(Y/n),” His voice cracked as he said your name. “(Y/n), We- I was wrong. About you, we should have trusted you, me and Sam. I should have trusted you. Hell (Y/n)! You were my best friend, and I almost killed you, because I believed someone else! God, (Y/n), I’m so sor-“

He was cut off as you pulled him into a hug, wrapping your slender arms around his waist, resting your head in his chest.

“(Y/n)-“

“Dean. It’s okay. It wasn’t you..” Dean went to interrupt you, but you gave him a warning glance. “Dean it was my fault too. I could have fought back, but I didn’t, because I thought you really hated me, I thought that you and Sam had replaced me. I felt surplus to requirements.”

“You could ever be replaced, not ever, (Y/n).”

\----------

9 months later

“DEAN! NO!”

Your shriek of laughter pierced the comfortable silence of the library and you raced into the room, closely followed by the elder Winchester, who was clad in his jeans and an old ACDC t-shirt, his hair still wet from his recent shower, his green orbs gleaming with amusement.

He proceeded to chase you around the room and behind the large table. You huffed to yourself in slight annoyance as he raced towards you, finally manging to catch you, wrapping a wet embrace around you, the water in his hair, dripping onto your exposed neck. Pressing a kiss to your temple, he lifted you over one shoulder and carried you towards the kitchen.

“How above some breakfast Princess?” He set you on the worktop beside the fridge.

“Hellz yeah!” his face moved close to yours, his stubble tickling your skin.

“Hey, guys! I’m going out! Need anything?!” The yell of the younger Winchester caused you to pull away. Hopping off the counter top, you made your way to the door.

“Don’t forget the pie!” He grinned at you, before exiting the bunker.

Turning back to the elder Winchester, you smiled broadly at him, “I’m thinking of potato bread and bacon. How does that sound?”

“Great, but there’s something else I’d much rather have.”

“What?”

**_“You.”_ **


End file.
